


Clearing the Air

by McFluri (Weisel)



Series: In A Simpler Life [2]
Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-14 00:17:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18041825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weisel/pseuds/McFluri
Summary: It's been five months since Flynn last heard from Yuri, and there's a lot they need to talk about.Modern AU.





	1. Chapter 1

Flynn hadn’t heard a word from Yuri in five months, so naturally, he was shocked to see the name appear on his phone. 

He picked it up and answered the call. “Hello?”

“Hey.” It really was Yuri. “Uhh… Can I crash at your place for a while? My apartment didn’t pass inspection and I’m getting evicted.”

Flynn raised his eyebrows. 

“I know you’re making that face,” Yuri said. “It wasn’t my fault. The landlord hasn’t updated the place in god knows how long, and it’s in bad enough shape that he’s just gonna demolish the whole building and sell the lot.”

“Oh. Um, well, sure.” Flynn glanced around. He’d rearranged his apartment since Yuri moved out, but it still felt awfully empty. “Do you need me to come help you move?”

“Estelle offered to help.”

“Well, it’d probably be easier to coordinate everything if I just did it.”

Yuri scoffed, though it almost sounded like a laugh. “Typical.”

“When do you need me to come get you?” Flynn asked. 

“The sooner, the better, I guess,” Yuri said, which Flynn was pretty sure meant he needed to be out of there that day. 

“Right. I’ll head over after work.”

Flynn had never been to Yuri’s apartment, but he wasn’t surprised at all to find out it was located in the more…  _ troublesome _ part of town. He’d been sent out to the area for a variety of reasons before while on duty. The apartment building itself was about as rundown as he’d expected. He could see why the owner would rather knock it down than try making repairs.

After parking his car along the sidewalk, Flynn found Yuri’s apartment door and knocked. He could hear a dog barking on the other side, then the sliding of a lock. As soon as the door opened, Repede rushed out to greet him.

“Hey, boy! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Flynn knelt down and scratched behind Repede’s ears. “I bet you’ve been working hard guarding this place.”

“Yeah, I get it. I live in the fucking slums,” Yuri grumbled.

“That’s not —” Flynn sighed and stood up. “A number of break-ins have happened in this building, that’s all I meant.”

“Sure you did.” Yuri turned away from the door and Repede attempted to herd Flynn inside the apartment. “I dunno if everything will fit in your car if you’re still driving that stupid Prius.”

“We managed it last time,” Flynn replied. Thinking back to the first time Yuri moved into his apartment stung more than he would’ve liked. “It’s not a long drive, anyway.”

“It’s a long drive when you’ve got a box of books on your lap crushing your dick,” Yuri retorted.

Flynn sighed again and picked up one of the larger boxes. “Well, we’ll put your books in the backseat this time.”

They loaded up the car, only speaking to each other when they had to. Everything fit, save for the few pieces of furniture that they both agreed deserved to be turned into rubble. Yuri never owned much, anyway.

The drive home was quiet, almost unbearably so. Repede would whine once in a while, but Yuri never said a word and Flynn had no idea how to break this silence. He cleared his throat a couple times, but he never came up with something to say. Everything seemed too casual or too personal.

Unloading the car played out the same way. Repede settled on the armchair in the living room while Flynn and Yuri brought in all the boxes. Once they were done, Flynn poured two glasses of water and handed one to Yuri.

After taking a long drink, Flynn said, “Repede looks comfortable.”

Yuri only offered a small grunt in response as he drank his water.

“Um, I can rearrange some stuff to give you more room.”

Yuri shrugged.

Flynn looked down at his feet helplessly. This cold distance was awful. “I’ll, uh, make dinner, I guess.”

“Order something,” Yuri replied so firmly that Flynn actually jumped a little.

Flynn sighed to himself and dug out a credit card out of his wallet, then handed it over to Yuri. They’d done this a hundred times before, but the simple action felt so strange now. While Yuri looked over the menus in the kitchen stuck on the refrigerator, Flynn began rearranging the furniture to how it had been before, and Repede sniffed around the apartment.

“Everything as it should be?” Flynn asked, giving Repede a few pets. Repede let out a quiet bark and Flynn smiled, satisfied with the answer. At least one person was willing to talk to him. Well… Repede was practically a person, anyway.

“Yuri, where are Repede’s dishes?” Flynn asked.

Without saying a word or even looking over, Yuri pointed to a box.

“Uh, right. Thanks.”

Time dragged on with neither saying a word to each other, even when they were sitting at the kitchen table together and eating dinner. Flynn was about ready to scream or just cry.

“Yuri, you’re going to have to actually talk to me if this is going to work,” he finally said after what felt like an eternity of silence.

Yuri didn’t look up from his food. “I’ll be out of here as soon as I find a place.”

“You don’t—” Flynn sighed and put down his fork, only to pick it up again. “I’m not giving you a deadline or anything. You can stay here as long as you want.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow, but he still didn’t look at Flynn. “Yeah, I’ll be out of here as soon as I find a place,” he repeated.

Flynn bristled and slammed his fork back down, then stood up. He’d finish dinner once he didn’t feel like punching Yuri in the face. He quickly walked out of the room and shut himself in the bedroom. Yuri knew just how to get under his skin, and he hated it.

He didn’t know how long he stayed there just lying on the bed and glaring at the ceiling, but when he came back out, Yuri had unpacked a few things and changed his clothes. Flynn checked his watch, then walked back into the bedroom to get ready for bed. Not that he’d be able to get any sleep like this.

This time, Yuri looked up at him when Flynn walked into the living room in a T-shirt, flannel pajama pants, and glasses. “Out of your lame dad costume?” he commented before looking back down at his phone.

Flynn crossed his arms and sat down on the far end of the couch. Had Repede not been sitting on the armchair again, he would’ve sat there instead of being so close to Yuri. Flynn didn’t miss it when Yuri snuck another glance.

“I can’t believe you’re still wearing that shirt,” Yuri said, and Flynn could have sworn there was a twitch of a smile.

“Yeah. It’s comfortable,” he replied. Yuri had found the shirt at a thrift store and couldn’t stop laughing at it, so Flynn bought it and wore it to bed so often that the fabric had become soft and thin. It was just an ugly souvenir T-shirt from someplace neither of them had visited, but Flynn couldn’t bear to part with it. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to pass on the curse of this abomination to an unsuspecting victim.”

Again, a smile almost appeared on Yuri’s face.

“Maybe I’ll sneak it into one of your boxes when you move out,” Flynn added. It was supposed to be a joke, but he felt miserable saying it.

Yuri snorted, then set down his phone and went into the kitchen. A moment later, he returned with a bottle in hand.

“Uh. Where did that come from?” Flynn asked.

“Top shelf. Forgot to take it with me last time,” Yuri said with a shrug. He opened the bottle and held it out to Flynn.

Flynn drew back slightly as the strong scent of liquor reached his nose.

“Take it, dumbass.”

Flynn hesitantly took it, then tried a sip and coughed. “Christ—”

Yuri laughed, and that was enough to make Flynn gulp down a swig. His eyes watered and he thought he might throw up for a second, but Yuri was  _ laughing _ and it was music to his ears. He handed the bottle back to Yuri and pressed a hand to his chest where he could feel the burn of alcohol.

“Do you even drink anymore?” Yuri teased before taking a swig himself.

“Not really,” Flynn replied hoarsely and cleared his throat. He was too busy with work to drink. It wasn’t fun without Yuri, anyway.

Yuri didn’t say anything in response and looked off for a long moment, then passed the bottle back to Flynn.

“I don’t know if I should—”

Yuri cut him off. “Just drink. I can’t stand it when you’re so fucking uptight.”

Flynn took another drink just to  _ prove _ something to Yuri, but he didn’t know what exactly he was proving by it. “Yuri, why did you leave?” he finally asked.

“Oh, god. Not this conversation,” Yuri groaned and snatched the bottle back. He drank a large gulp, then sank back into the couch. “I already told you. You were fucking suffocating me.”

Flynn pulled his feet up on the couch and looked down at the floor. “What the hell does that even mean?”

“I mean that all you did was nag me. Either you were nagging me or you weren’t there at all.”

Flynn’s chest ached beneath the burn. He reached over for the bottle. “Not  _ all _ the time,” he argued quietly, though he wasn’t really sure how right he was.

Yuri passed over the bottle again. “Right, the rest of it was lecturing, bitching, and yelling,” he scoffed.

Flynn looked down at the bottle in his hands as guilt settled heavily in his stomach. Before things ended, he’d been stressed, overworked, and the little time he had with Yuri was spent arguing. Flynn downed two large gulps, then abruptly shoved the bottle back into Yuri’s hands and stood up from the couch with his hand over his mouth. He swayed a little as the dizzying nausea came and went.

“Finish your dinner before you fuck yourself up,” Yuri said, then took another drink.

Flynn went into the kitchen and retrieved his box of takeout, then returned to the couch and sat down. “That stuff is awful,” he commented, his eyes still watering.

Yuri snorted. “It’s strong and cheap. Of course it tastes awful.”

Flynn finished the last of his dinner in silence, mulling over Yuri’s words. After cleaning up what was left from their dinner— Yuri had left everything on the table, probably just to piss him off— he settled back down on his side of the couch. He sighed, then picked up the bottle from the coffee table. It was almost empty now.

“Finish it off,” Yuri said.

Flynn drank the rest, secretly grateful he wouldn’t have to drink anymore after that. He set down the bottle on the table and hugged his legs to his chest. The liquor made his chest feel hot, but it was as empty as ever. Yuri looked more relaxed, but every emotion Flynn felt only seemed to intensify.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said.

Yuri glanced up from his phone, but didn’t say a word.

Flynn took a deep breath and stared down at the floor. “You’re right, and I’m sorry. I… I was a nag. I yelled too much. And I wish I hadn’t. I just… I couldn’t stop worrying every time you stayed out late, and I— I just wanted things to be okay  _ somewhere _ in my life.”

“Worried?” Yuri scoffed. “Seemed more like you were pissed off.”

“I know. I know,” Flynn said and put his head down in his hands. “It’s just— I see so many cases where someone at a bar gets violent, and I’m always scared you’ll be one of the people they attack.”

“I can take care of myself. Besides, Judy’s usually with me when I go. I’m not a defenseless little flower.”

“I know that, Yuri.” Flynn closed his eyes and took another deep breath. “But— God, there was a call, a guy had been shot at a bar, and he looked sort of like you, and it— it fucking scared me so much. For a second, I really thought it was you.” His eyes watered as the memory returned, just that flash of false recognition and absolute dread. “I thought, ‘why put yourself in danger when you can be safe at home instead?’”

“Way more people die in car crashes than bars,” Yuri said.

“I know, but that guy—” Flynn shook his head to himself. “The whole world is dangerous and I know I can’t protect you from everything— you don’t  _ need _ protection from everything— but I got so scared every time I came home and you weren’t there.” He let out a shaky sigh. “I know now that I was overreacting, but it never felt like it in the moment.”

Yuri sighed as well and looked off. “It wasn’t just that, though.”

Flynn’s heart sank. God, there was even  _ more. _

“You were always at work. Even when you were home, you were at work in your head,” Yuri continued. “I never thought I was the needy type, but would it have killed you to even sleep in the same bed as me?”

Flynn took off his glasses and ran his fingers through his hair, then put his face down in his hands. “I know, I was up late a lot doing work… You had long shifts, too, though. I didn’t want to wake you up.” He could see now how all of this had only driven a wedge between them. “God, I’m such an idiot…”

“And…”

Flynn broke down. He couldn’t help it. They’d been apart for five months, but this felt as awful as the first day.

Yuri sighed and stopped talking.

“...Tell me,” Flynn choked out after a moment.

“Well, you have this annoying habit of letting rules control your life, even stupid ones. And I’m not just talking about laws, Officer Perfect.”

“What do you mean?” Flynn asked, his voice cracking.

“You’re always talking about what you  _ should _ and  _ shouldn’t _ do. What about what you _ want,  _ dammit?”

Flynn had no idea what to say to that. After a long pause, he weakly replied, “I don’t understand.”

Yuri laid back on the couch and propped his feet up on the back of it. “Well, is there something you  _ want _ to do but won’t do it because you think you _ shouldn’t?” _

Flynn hesitated. The first thing he thought of was touching Yuri in any way, even just holding his hand. “...Yes.”

“Right now?” Yuri asked.

“Yes.”

“Then do it.”

Several seconds passed, and then Flynn slowly reached for Yuri’s hand without looking. The alcohol had already affected his coordination, and his hand landed squarely on Yuri’s crotch.

“Jesus, Flynn—”

Flynn yanked his hand back and nearly toppled off the couch in alarm. “Shit— Sorry, I was trying to hold your hand!” he stammered.

“I’m guessing you haven’t been dating lately if you think  _ that’s _ a hand,” Yuri laughed.

“S-Sorry, sorry!” Flynn’s face burned bright red in embarrassment. Even so, he couldn’t stop himself from giggling. He always found Yuri’s laugh to be so contagious, and he’d missed it so, so much…

Flynn started to sob. His sobs turned into laughs, then back into sobs, then laughs again…


	2. Chapter 2

Flynn opened his eyes, then immediately shut them tight again, blinded by the bright rays of sunshine streaming into the room. He groaned and turned over, shoving his face into a pillow that smelled like Yuri’s hair. His mind felt slow and foggy, and his head ached.  _ Everything _ ached. Since when was he sick?

Then the realization hit him. He wasn’t sick. He’d been blackout drunk. He’d  _ never _ been blackout drunk before in his life.

Slowly, he dragged himself out of bed and trudged out of the room. Something smelled like food, and he couldn’t decide if it was good or made him want to throw up. Maybe it was some of both.

“Rise and shine, asshole. I made waffles.”

Flynn peered into the kitchen to see Yuri putting a stack of waffles on a plate.

“Eat these. Slowly. And drink all that water,” Yuri said and pointed to a large glass of water.

“You’re wearing sunglasses inside,” Flynn said, his voice groggy.

“Yeah, and you’re wearing my underwear. Guess it’s a costume party.” Yuri set the plate on the table. “I’m hungover, idiot. And so are you.”

Flynn sat down at the table, then touched his face and frowned. “Uh… Where are my glasses?” he asked. They hadn’t been on the nightstand.

“Hell if I know,” Yuri replied as he put on his shoes. “I gotta take Repede for a walk and run a couple errands. I’ll be back later.”

“Yuri? What happened last night?”

Yuri took out his phone from his pocket, fussed with it for a moment, then set it down in front of Flynn. “Me and Judy record ourselves drunk all the time. Guess it’s habit now.”

Flynn leaned forward and squinted at the screen. He’d have to get out his old glasses until he found his usual ones. There was no way he’d be wearing his contacts today.

“Tell me if anything interesting happened,” Yuri said and headed out the door with Repede.

Did that mean Yuri didn’t remember, either?

“‘Kay,” Flynn mumbled and pressed the play button. 

As soon as the recording began to play, Flynn heard his own voice laughing— no, crying— no, laughing… He definitely sounded drunk, if not a little insane. He remembered this. Mostly. He should probably take notes.

Flynn retrieved a pen and pad of paper from his desk, then returned to the kitchen and began to jot down a few things while he ate his waffles. A moment later, he looked down at his notes and frowned.

“Still can’t see a damn thing,” he muttered to himself and left the kitchen again.

Once more, he returned to the kitchen table, this time with his glasses and some pants on. The recording was still mostly of his own voice sobbing and babbling on about how much he’d missed Yuri. Embarrassing, but not surprising.

Then Yuri’s voice said something too softly to hear and everything went quiet. Flynn frowned and turned up the volume. A moment later, he realized those small sounds in the background were the two of them kissing. A lot. He tried to remember that moment, but other pieces of last night flashed through his mind instead, memories that made him blush. Maybe those were just dreams and his brain was too hungover to tell the difference right now.

_ “I’m so sorry, Yuri… I missed you so damn much.” _ There was another small sound, just a gasping breath, and Flynn knew he’d started crying again.  _ “Please, can we at least be friends again?” _

He heard Yuri sigh.  _ “...Yeah, I think we can manage that much.” _

Flynn jotted down the time of the recording as well as a short note.

It seemed that they’d gone back to making out, which gave Flynn some time to keep eating his waffles.

_ “Would you just fuck me already?” _

Yuri’s question caught Flynn off guard and he nearly choked. He set down his fork and cleared his throat, then took another note.

There was a rustle of fabric, a clunk, and a laugh. Flynn was pretty sure he’d picked up Yuri, and apparently Yuri had managed to take his phone to the bedroom. That bastard.

They apparently didn’t waste any time getting right to business. Flynn blushed and turned down the volume a few notches. Did he really sound like… _ that? _

After another minute of staring down at his half-eaten waffle and trying not to listen too closely to the recording, Flynn jotted down, “Definitely had sex.”

By the time the recording went silent, Flynn was beet-red. He wasn’t embarrassed about the act itself, but listening to himself through the whole process was something else entirely. At least they were done, which meant they probably fell asleep after that.

_ “Uh… I think I’m gonna puke,” _ Flynn heard his voice say. He put his head down in his arms and groaned.

He heard Yuri snicker.  _ “No, you’re not.” _ There was a rustle of sheets and the bed creaked.

_ “Huh? Oh. Uh. Okay.” _

A moment later, there was a somewhat distant  _ thunk _ followed by the echoing sound of vomiting in the bathroom. Flynn could hear himself trying to argue with Yuri about how he’d been right between each heave, and Yuri was just laughing.

Flynn couldn’t make out much of the conversation after that, even with the volume turned up. From what he could tell, he’d brushed his teeth and then rambled about the importance of oral hygiene. Then the showered turned on and they were both laughing again.

For a minute or so, the only sound Flynn could hear was the water running. Then there was a groan— no, a moan— and he realized that this wasn’t just a regular shower.

He picked up his pen again and wrote,  _ “Probably had sex in the shower.” _ After another minute, he crossed out the word “probably.”

The front door opened and Flynn jumped. He dropped his pen and scrambled to pause the recording. Repede trotted into the kitchen and approached Flynn expectantly.

Flynn reached out to pet Repede’s head and laughed quietly. “Sorry you had to put up with us last night. I bet you didn’t miss  _ that.” _

“Got you something.”

Flynn looked up in time to see Yuri set down a mug in front of him. The mug read “Happy Father’s Day” and had a picture of a cartoon turtle on it. “Uh, what’s—” He blinked and suddenly realized what must have happened. “Where’s my coffee mug?”

Yuri sat down at the table and propped his feet up in the empty chair beside him. “Guess you didn’t get to that part yet, huh? You broke it last night and cried over it like a baby. I figured you couldn’t drink your coffee from anything that wasn’t a stupid dad mug of some kind.”

“Was it that bad? Can I glue it back together?” Flynn got up from the table and began searching around the kitchen, which was in far worse shape than it had been last night.

“I put the pieces on the top shelf so you wouldn’t hurt yourself trying to put it back together while drunk,” Yuri said. “It’s amazing how much you ignore what’s on the top shelf.”

“Because I don’t need to use that space for anything, and Estelle can’t reach it,” Flynn replied and began searching the cupboards. He didn’t stop until he found the remains of a mug that once said “#1 DAD.”

“You took notes?”

Flynn looked back over his shoulder and blushed. “Um, y-yeah. I don’t remember much from last night, so…”

“My memory’s a bit fuzzy, too,” Yuri said and pushed his sunglasses up off his face. He picked up the notepad and read over what Flynn had written. “I definitely remember you puking.”

“So, then…” Flynn turned around and leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms. “Do you remember anything else…?”

“If you’re talking about the fucking, yes, I think I remember at least most of them.”

Flynn raised his eyebrows. That was a strange way to phrase it. “Most of them?” he repeated.

Yuri shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, there was the first time in the bed and the shower, and then the kitchen, the couch, the bed again, but I might’ve missed one or two.”

“I—” Flynn cut himself off and crossed one leg over the other, looking down at his feet. “...I see. Um. You don’t… regret it, do you?”

“Did I  _ sound _ like I was regretting it?” Yuri asked.

Flynn took in a quick breath and looked up for a split second. “That’s what I don’t know, Yuri. Sometimes I know exactly what you’re thinking, and other times I feel like I’m completely in the dark. It’s like… like you don’t  _ want _ me to know how you feel. It hardly ever happened before, but lately, it’s all the time. Would you just  _ tell _ me instead of making me guess?”

“I told you last night, didn’t I?” Yuri replied.

“After  _ five months. _ You waited five months for me to guess and I never figured it out, so  _ then _ you told me.” Flynn sighed. “Please, Yuri. I just want to know what you’re feeling. Even if we’re not even friends anymore, I just need to know you’re okay, for my own sanity. I felt like a stalker every time I asked Estelle if you were alright, but I just needed to hear that you were still alive at least once a week.”

“And sometimes at five in the morning?” Yuri snorted. “You might as well have been a stalker.”

“Wh—” Flynn blinked. “How do you—”

“If I didn’t respond to her ‘Flynn wants to know if you’re okay’ texts immediately, she’d call me until I responded.”

Flynn closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m so sorry, I thought she just meant she’d talked to you recently, not that she’d actually contacted you right that minute to ask  _ for _ me…”

“Yeah.” Yuri began to laugh, and Flynn couldn’t help but laugh a little as well.

“Yeah, that would definitely make me seem like a stalker,” Flynn continued. “Oh, god, I am  _ so _ sorry.”

“Maybe next time you need to be discreet about something, don’t ask Estelle.”

Flynn’s laughter came to a stop and he opened his eyes. “Wait, so… you were talking  _ to _ me when you answered her?”

“More or less, yeah,” Yuri shrugged.

Flynn stared down at his feet for a moment, then laughed and sank to the floor. He knew if he didn’t stop laughing, he’d probably start crying instead. “You— You were talking to me, and I thought you were giving me the silent treatment. This whole time, we were on speaking terms. We—  _ Fuck— _ I am such an  _ idiot!” _

Yuri snorted. “Something we can agree on.”

Flynn continued to laugh, and Yuri seemed to understand that he needed this right now to hold himself together. He finally calmed down after a minute and leaned against the cabinet doors behind him. “Honestly, I think I’d prefer having you break my nose instead of going through  _ this.” _

Yuri smiled slightly. “Yeah, I’d rather break your nose, too.”

“...We can never tell Estelle. She’d never forgive herself,” Flynn said.

“Every conversation would start with an apology, so no, thank you.”

They both laughed a little, and Flynn stood back up. He felt as though about a hundred pounds had been lifted off his shoulders. For once, life seemed to be back to normal. The kitchen was a disaster, and Yuri was lounging around like he owned the place with some sugary drink in hand that had undoubtedly been paid for with Flynn’s credit card, all while looking coolly untouchable and beautiful. After five months without this, Flynn knew he wouldn’t want it any other way.

“So, um… Can we just go back to how things were?” he hesitantly asked.

“I can put off the apartment search,” Yuri replied with a shrug.

That was a good enough answer for Flynn.


End file.
